Van Dusen was anxious to call first upon the Collector of the Port. That office here had become, of late years, rather unimportant, since the action of the tides had filled the Inlet with sand, to such an extent that very few vessels of the ocean-going steamer type could get over the bar. The Collector's business was confined to seeing that yachts and other vessels of small draft had their proper papers. There was no United States Marshal located in the town, and the case of _The Isabel_ was plainly one to be handled by the Treasury Department. It was unnecessary for Ichabod to guide the detective further than the wharf, for the Custom House, with its identifying flag, stood near the landing. So, the Captain felt himself at liberty to visit the hotel, where he reclined at ease in a rocking chair on the porch, and enjoyed an intermittent conversation with the hostess of the inn. Roy remained on board the yacht, at his friend's bidding, in order to recover from the shock he had suffered on hearing Ichabod's story. Van Dusen found the Collector anxious to be of service in every possible way. He suggested that the services of the Sheriff should be enlisted, and that a warrant for the arrest of Doctor Garnet should be secured from the Justice of the Peace, for robbery, to be sworn to by Ichabod, since that offense had been committed within the jurisdiction of the state courts. The Sheriff, when called up over the telephone, agreed to supply three deputies, each equipped with a copy of the warrant. Finally, two small launches, each carrying one of the Sheriff's men, were chartered to voyage in different directions for the search, while the third would go aboard _The Hialdo_. Other business prevented the Sheriff from giving his personal aid in the quest. Ichabod was interrupted during his pleasuring on the porch by a telephone call, which requested him to report at once to Squire Chadwick's office in order to swear to the necessary papers. But the fisherman forgot the imperative summons as his hostess came out on the porch to bid him farewell. "Do ye realize, Sarah Porter, that this is the very fust time in over twenty year that I've come to your house except on business, without some fishes, terrapin, scallops, or sich to sell fer the hotel?" Miss Porter blushed like a girl. "Well, seein' as how you mention it, I reckon it's a fact." Her manner did not betray how often she had wondered, and perhaps grieved, over that fact during the score of years. Then, Ichabod at last took heart of courage, and spoke boldly: "This time, Sarah, arter due deliberation, an' study, Ichabod has come to ye to give something away. Tain't nothin' that comes out o' these waters or sands or marshes. Tain't gold, nor yit silver, but somethin' that nobody in all these years could 'a' bought, had they tried. Could ye guess what it mout be, Sarah?" There came a certain dreaminess into the woman's eyes, which, if a little dimmed, had by no means lost their luster.